


Kingdoms of Fools

by melovecats, OriliumButtons



Category: D.Gray-man, Original Work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2020-04-08 03:04:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19098469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melovecats/pseuds/melovecats, https://archiveofourown.org/users/OriliumButtons/pseuds/OriliumButtons
Summary: hi everybody! tis i!...and OriliumButtonsWhore stories, galore. Enjoy.Oril is a master at poems, so this is gonna be a mix of poems and one shots/short stories. we both hope you will enjoy them, and Oril also wrote the poem "The Lover, Lost and Weeping", so go check that out if they don't post it here.We're also going to include other works than the original works. Kitty is a talented fan-fiction writer, and is going to dump some of her works here too. We're not going to ever be done with this unless we run out of ideas, which might not happen. Ever.bye! hope you enjoy!





	1. Don't Forget, Demons Own The Land At Night

The trees swayed gently in the breeze, their brown leaves collecting in small piles on the pavement and dirt. Stumps of wood cut into the dimming light, the corpses long erased from their friends’ memories as the trees stood proud.

It had recently rained, so the remaining live leaves were heavy with drops of water slowly dripping down, the liquid of life collecting in puddles or dips in the wood.

Footsteps echoed into the still air as a person walked through, their earbuds tinkling with soft music. They stopped as the sunset came into view, only twenty yards from an old house. The house, old and broken down with age, stood tall with darkened windows and rotten wood. It was abandoned, and the wind blew around it, whistling through the open spaces. The wrap around porch would've been white had it been new. Now, the elements and insects dug into the wood, leaving gashes on once stable pillars with faded or washed away paint. The person shuffled forward, guilt and regret lacing their steps as they drew closer, leaving behind the puddles of wetness.

They pushed their hood off their head and gazed up at the house, their dark eyes flitting over the building's injuries gained over the years. Soft ripples of liquid sounds echoed into the growing dark, yet they ignored it as the streetlamps turned on one by one. It was a common sound during post-storm in this area. The land around this house had so many dips and ditches that forming a pond in at least one of them was common. The wind also had a habit of blowing against the water, so it would frequently create sounds one would hear next to a lake or pool.

Huffing, the person slung their backpack onto the ground and fished through it. They smiled and pulled a flashlight out before slipping the backpack on. As they crossed onto the threshold, the sunlight finally disappeared, leaving their grandfather's run down manor in shadows. They fished out a spare set of keys from their front pocket and disappeared into the rotten house. The door creaked close behind them.

"-the disappearance of May Ston made it onto the front page of the newspaper?" A small group of teenagers whispered among themselves as they stopped in front of the old house. They quickly glanced around them before running across the lawn and into the house, giggling along the way. Two golden eyes peered out from under thick black hair as they watched the group of humans disappear, it's wavy hair floating and blending into the puddle around it as it slowly climbed out of the water. 


	2. Chaos Rising

Glassy pools of black reflected the glowing stones above. The cavern shook violently as explosions rocked the tunnels. The glassy eyes traveled to a hand, one holding a dagger. They glanced up once more, staring into the stone eyes of a statue, before the hand tightened it's grip on the dagger's handle. The eyes narrowed as another explosion reached the person's ears, accompanied by a loud roar. 

Surrounding the cloaked person lay ten corpses, some under large boulders, others with arrows and stab wounds. The person sighed and removed their wolf mask, turning around to glance at their fallen comrades with a sad smile. "Don't worry everyone; your sacrifice will not be in vain," They said, turning around once more as runes appeared around their body, "We will succeed. Xerthar SHALL rise again in this despicable world." With that, the cloaked being started chanting in an ancient language, the whites of their eyes turning solid black.

They raised the dagger high in the air just as the double doors behind them burst open.

"No, stop!" A female voice called out, yet it was too late.

They swung the dagger down into their stomach as they finished the spell, and a black orb of magic exploded out from them. Their consciousness quickly faded away as their body transformed, changing in order to fit the needs of a new being. The cave ceiling burst open as the black orb shot upwards. The new being inhaled it's first breath of fresh air, and as the magic faded away from it's body, it glanced down at the people below it.

It let out a laugh.

 ~~ ** _"It's SO wonderful to be free again..."_**~~  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, i wanted to write something, and this is the result. i really hope you like it! have a wonderful day/night, and you're all AWESOME!


	3. The Holly King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Holly King is based on the old celtic God Cernunnos, if you wanna go research Him. Sorry for this taking so long! I kinda got... Poet's Block. For a year.

The Holly King breathes

  
A sigh, a whisper in the night.

  
He stalks the thorns and stalks,

  
paces behind and beneath the trees

  
A long circle drawn in waxy green.

  
He watches. He listens. Waits.

  
Soon they will open the gate.

  
If you do not, he knows.

  
He knows, he knows he will be too late.

  
They always close him away

  
Before they have their last dance with fate.

  
The Holly King brushes snow

  
His eyes are frosted,

  
Yet His old heart still aglow.

  
But faintly does it beat in us

  
A warm hope for us

  
Circling in the dark snow

  
We helped to make.

**Author's Note:**

> first horror story ever! i hope it was horror and i REALLY hope you guys liked it! this is for my sis, Oril. anyways, i hope you all have a great week and you're all AWESOME! XP -melovecats


End file.
